“I assume one of them concerns the paternity of my son.”
“Yes. You don’t have to tell me any more, unless you think it has a bearing on the case.”
“For all I know it might. I assume you’re like a priest? You can’t repeat what’s said outside this room?”
“I can if it incriminates you in the case under investigation.”
“I imagine it incriminates me for stupidity, if nothing else. Marcus is – was – Noah’s father. The baby wasn’t planned, but Robert was desperate for a son, so I thought it would all work out – until now.”
“You think someone did this to get back at you?”
“Well, what do you think, Detective Sergeant? Let’s see now, who would be the most upset to find out that Noah was not his son after all, but the product of his unfaithful wife and her lover?”
“That’s a very serious accusation, Mrs Kramer.”
“Everything I’ve ever done has been about survival. I suppose I thought that having a child with Marcus would help me to survive a loveless marriage. I hadn’t counted on my husband finding out the truth.”
“You can’t be sure that he has.”
“It certainly looks that way, doesn’t it? You should see him this morning. He looks like he’s just met his own ghost.”
“You mean because he’s upset about Mr Baine.”
“They used to be best friends until Robert started thinking that Gregory was cheating him. Gregory was always getting them into financial scrapes. I imagine Robert is very upset, because he won’t have his money man to bail him out this time. Even if he finds another producer, it’ll be a nightmare trying to put everything right. I heard there’s no question of cancelling the play. They’re going on.”
“My boss thinks your husband really believes in the Punch legend,” Longbright observed. “Do you think he does?”
Judith Kramer paused to think, qualifying her words. “He certainly believes in good and bad fortune. That’s why there’s a puppet in the play that comes to life. It appealed to Robert. He was raised in a very odd family. His mother filled his head with all kinds of nonsense. You’d be surprised how superstitious successful men often are. For all I know, he honestly believes Mr Punch stepped down from his hook and murdered his child. I assume that was the desired effect, and it has been achieved.”
Longbright studied the sallow face before her and could see that Judith Kramer was still suffering from the effects of over-medication. “How is your husband coping?”
“You’ve spoken to him, you should know. I’m not sure anything really touches him. His main goal in life has always been to make something of himself. Now that he’s achieved that, I can’t imagine anything else matters.”
“I’ve read his statements. The only thing that puzzles me is his move from property into the theatre.”
“Why?”
“Theatre people seem – irrational. They’re not known for their pragmatism.”
“Well, of course they’re steeped in odd beliefs. They see ghosts and touch wood, ban the mention of
“There’s no indication that your husband is in any way involved. I have physical evidence against that.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“I can fully account for his time at the party, and I hear he has an alibi for last night. He was with you.”
“Was he? I don’t think I noticed. Anyway, I didn’t say he would do it himself.” Judith gave a bitter laugh. “Robert never does anything himself. He’d hire someone to handle the problem for him. I’m surprised he proposed to me in person.”
“A lot of men are like that.”
“Oh, my husband is unique, I assure you. Robert purchased the Punch and Judy puppets just after his first big sale. It was very important that he beat everyone else at the auction, and he didn’t care that he paid far too much for them. There are lots of ugly stories about how he made his money. In one of these tales, he set up a holiday flat-share website for students, bringing a million contract users to it on the promise that he would never charge them for the service. Then he sold the site to a company that immediately started charging them via a loophole he had deliberately left in their log-in forms, and sued them when they defaulted.”
“He wasn’t at all bothered by that?”
“I suppose he has the morality of a typical City boy. They’re all opportunists, aren’t they? It doesn’t pay to be sentimental. Anyway, with the money he made, he bought a Victorian theatre called the Putney Empire from two widowed sisters, on another supposedly unbreakable promise – that they could stay as sitting tenants in the property next door while he restored the building’s fabric to its former glory.”
“I assume he didn’t keep his promise.”
“No. He cheated the building regulations, paid off the council, hired some thugs to kick the sisters out and tore both the theatre and their house down. I heard they died penniless, although that may be an exaggeration. While the case dithered in the courts he rented the site as a coach park. He used the money from the vehicle leases to build a block of flats and opened his first nightclub. He was just twenty-one years old.”
“If nothing else, it sounds as if he’s been consistent.”
“Robert has every version of the Punch story on his bookshelves because he believes in its message.
“How is Marcus?”
“He’s rather more like Robert than he realizes. He doesn’t have time to think about anything or anyone other than himself. Not even the child he fathered. I don’t really mean that as a criticism, it’s just the way he is. Maybe one day he’ll look back with regret. Once he starts to age. I don’t suppose I’ll still be with him. It’s exhausting loving someone more than they love you. But since Monday’s… event… I don’t think I want to see him any more. I don’t know what I want.”
“These are early days.”
Judith moved the conversation away from herself. “I suppose you see a lot of tragedy in your job. You’re trained for it.”
“Yes, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that this part is the worst, and it slowly gets better, to the point when you’ll look back and see something harmful and distant – like a fading thunderstorm.”
“That’s a poetic thought.”
“I have to ask you, Mrs Kramer. Do you think – ”
“You’re going to ask me if I think my husband could break the law and get away with it.” Judith gave her appearance a final check and turned from the mirror. “I know he could, because as far as I can tell, he’s been doing so all his life. He never seems to have any regrets. Do you know what’s wrong with all the people who pass through this house? Nobody ever cries. There’s no real emotion here, it’s all hidden away. And I’ve broken yet another rule by bringing it out. Oh, and did I tell you I mentioned the Scottish play on the night of my son’s death? So I brought a curse down on the house. I’m starting to see why Robert’s first wife killed herself. It must have seemed a viable option.” Judith Kramer wiped her cheek, closed the lipstick and handed it back. “Thanks for the girl talk.”
? The Memory of Blood ?
26
Disinformation
There was something wrong with Leslie Faraday’s chair. It squeaked every time he tipped it back. Faraday had sat his broad bottom on it every day of his working life for the last fourteen years, and took it with him when he moved departments. Like its owner, it was noisy and had an overstuffed red seat. It tilted and swivelled and had fat wooden arms that helped to support his increasing girth. Faraday leaned forward and punched out his PA’s internal number.
